


god, you're so weird

by mukemagic



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Sumerian Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Deities, F/M, M/M, Mesopotamian Mythology - Freeform, Possession, Sumerian Mythology - Freeform, Sumerian gods, nor do i!, ryan doesn't know wtf is happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukemagic/pseuds/mukemagic
Summary: in which weird things start happening and then suddenly shane is pressing him up against his kitchen counter, asking him what his name is like they haven't been friends for the past four years(aka the one were ryan might be possessed and shane might not be who he says he is)





	god, you're so weird

**Author's Note:**

> look i'm going to give you some truth bombs:  
> numero uno - i've not wrote in over four years, it's like what even are words yanno? so idk what i'm doing here  
> numero dos - ngl to you fellas, i stumbled upon mesopotamian myths by accident and i'm adding my own spin on it so if u came here for accuracy i'm sorry u at the wrong party friend  
> finally numero tres - the pug and the cat scenes happened to me a few weeks ago and it made me paranoid, which brought about this whole thing.
> 
> anyway! let's get to it my dudes. again, i'm a little rusty, please forgive me. and if you're anything to do with that big ole buzzyfeed, be gone demon. bYE!

It starts on a Friday evening. Well actually, it starts on a  _Thursday afternoon_  but Ryan isn’t the most reliable of narrators nor overly observant. But it’s Friday when he first notices something different or rather  _weird_  happening that catches his attention. He’s on his way home from work, two streets away from his apartment, headphones in as he’s walking towards a family buckling children into their car.

They have a dog, a small light brown pug that attempts to leap up into the back but far too short to be successful. Ryan thinks Shane would be laughing at it, if he were here, pointing at it and claiming how “It’s you, Ryan, look! Short stuff!”

Ryan shakes his head at the thought, and yet there’s a slight smile on his lips at the idea of his friend’s playful mocking.

But his smile falls as he spots the dog beginning to leap up more aggressively, smacking itself against the hard frame of the vehicle, its bark loud even over the sounds of some pop song he can’t remember the name of playing through his headphones. The animal seems desperate, seemingly more so the closer Ryan gets. The mother looks away from the child she’s strapped into the backseat, glancing down at the pet by her feet, lifting it into her arms to console it.

Ryan blinks away his confusion as he passes by.

_Weird._

He’s walked about five houses further down the road when a white cat ahead of him stands to a halt, its back arched in a way that it looks painful and hairs spiking up in all directions. Its bright yellow eyes are wide and focused in on him, watching him as he gets closer and Ryan feels uncomfortable. He looks back down the street, taking a headphone out of his right ear, in case there’s some sort of commotion going on that is startling it.

There’s nothing. The street is eerily quiet and practically empty except for him and the family that are now packed away in their car, ready to pull away from the pavement.

The cat looks like it’s assessing how quickly it can sprint away as Ryan decides to give it a wide berth by crossing over to the other side of the road.

_Weird._

He’s still thinking of its golden eyes and the echo of the pug’s frantic barking as he reaches his apartment building.

It’s nearly 7pm but it’s still light out.  _That’s the beauty of summertime_ , his mind supplies as he pulls open the door and begins climbing the stairs to his flat.

He’s on the fourth floor and breathless by the time his sneaker covered feet press into his welcome mat.

A sigh escapes his mouth as he throws himself down on his sofa, not even bothering to remove his jacket and leaving his bag on the floor beside him.

It had been a long day of intense editing for the next episode of Unsolved before he was roped into doing some video for Curly. He should feel tired, he expects his body to ache like it usually would at the end of the week and yet, it doesn’t.

Maybe it’s because he fell asleep ridiculously early the night before. Which is very unlike him. He’s usually up late into the morning, researching some strange conspiracy theory or checking out locations for upcoming ghost hunts. But by 8 o’clock he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open, eyelids drooping and his whole body had felt heavy with it; so he’d practically died off under the comfort of his blankets within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.

Now though, he feels like there’s an electric current buzzing under his skin and he gets the urge to get to his feet. Maybe he should hit the gym, burn off some of the unexpected energy that the extra hours of sleep seem to have given him.

He’s in the process of shimmying out of his jacket when his phone chirps insistently in his jeans pocket, disrupting the quiet of his apartment.

“Yo?” He answers, placing the phone between his ear and shoulder, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Ryan?”

It’s Shane, Ryan could recognise that voice anywhere. He’s had to listen to endless audio clips of them both that he could probably be an expert on that Midwestern drawl.

“Yeah, man?” He can hear his friend let out a long exhale on the other end of the phone, like he’s releasing years’ worth of stress from his lungs. “What’s up?” Ryan adds, eyebrows pulling together as he folds his jacket over the back of the couch and heads to the bedroom to gather his gym gear.

There’s silence then, like Shane, who is usually so easy going around him, is struggling to decide what to say next.

_Weird._

“Uh…” Shane finally says and Ryan chuckles, feeling awkward all of a sudden. It’s a new feeling of tension between them and definitely  _not_  welcomed. “This is going to sound weird.”

Ryan’s hand pauses where he’s shuffling through a drawer for a clean pair of joggers. “Dude?” Is all he can reply, and he can feel the energy he’d been feeling earlier leaving him and a tension building in its place.

“Look, I’m outside yours-“ Is what Shane starts with and it’s followed by the ringing of his intercom.

“Is that the weird part?” Ryan chuckles, confused, as he steps back into his living room to buzz his friend up.

“No.” Is what Shane responds, he lets out a breathy laugh and there’s a sound of the building’s door clicking closed behind him in the background.

Ryan suddenly feels on edge. He’d barely seen Shane all day with them focusing on separate projects and then the taller male had left work around 4 o’clock, two hours before him, hurried out in a flock of their co-workers wanting to go to a bar for a few drinks. Ryan had been finalising a few bits on Curly’s video, so had shook his head no to joining them. Shane had given him a long, odd look. But Ryan had thought nothing of it at the time. Now though… it seemed…

_Weird._

“Shall I hang up?” Ryan asks as he twists the lock on his door, pulling it open to reveal an empty corridor, leaving it ready for when Shane’s long legs finally bring him up to the fourth floor.

“No.” Shane repeats and it’s not what Ryan is expecting, so he’s left unsure what to say and just starts rambling nonsense, telling his tall friend to ignore the state of his apartment. He’d already abandoned his task of getting ready for the gym, swapping to preparing a pot of coffee instead.

Soon there were three gentle taps on his open door and then Shane appeared in his living room, sporting the same dark denim jacket, black jeans and burgundy button up he’d been wearing at work.

“I thought you were out tonight?” Ryan says, finally ending the call and slipping his phone into his back pocket, trying to bring back a sense of normalcy with casual conversation.

Shane shrugs his broad shoulders, looks like he’s trying to politely dismiss the line of questioning, with another topic clearly on his mind. His brown eyes are burning into the shorter male and it’s too intense that Ryan feels forced to turn away, returning to the kitchen area to tend to their drinks.

“Uhm…” Ryan begins. God now he really  _does_  feel weird, the current under his skin feels like a slight itch and he’s surprised to see that he doesn’t have goosebumps on his arms. “Shane, you going to like… tell me what has you calling round? Not that I don’t love your company, man. But- uh-“ He’s cut off by a hand gripping at his wrist, tugging him forwards and then he’s being pushed against the counter, Shane’s body flushed against his front and knocking a gasp out of him.

Ryan licks his lips, an automatic response that he inwardly curses himself for. But Shane doesn’t seem to notice as he continues to look directly into Ryan’s now wide eyes. It’s too much… it’s…

_Weird._

Their mouths are so close together, Ryan can feel Shane’s breath ghosting against his face and he swallows harshly. He doesn’t know what to expect. If he’s being honest with himself, he thinks Shane might kiss him. But it’s a ridiculous thought. His best friend wouldn’t do that, right?

“What’s your name?” Shane breaks the silence, but not the eye contact. And Ryan feels lost by the question and goes to turn his face, only for Shane to grip tightly at his jaw so he can’t look away.

“Shane? W-what are you doing, man?” Ryan stutters, voice quiet and shaky.

“Ry, it’s okay, trust me, little guy.” Shane’s face softens for a second, eyes glancing over his friend’s startled face.

And no. Ryan doesn’t like what’s happening, so he places his hands on Shane’s hips and starts pushing him back, trying to put some space between them. But Shane, in all his 6ft 4’ glory doesn’t budge. This is not what Ryan had been expecting really; for one, he goes the  _gym_  for God’s sake, he thought he’d be able to easily manoeuvre someone and two, Shane is a frail looking beanstalk, he shouldn’t be this strong. Surely his long limbs must be weighing him down or something.

“Shane, you’re scaring me.” Ryan whispers, struggling to find his voice in the somewhat shock of the situation. “Are you drunk?” Because he honestly can’t think of a better explanation for why his best friend has cornered him in his kitchen.

“What’s your name?” Shane asks again, ignoring him.

Ryan is getting frustrated now in his confusion. His head feels foggy with it, forehead creasing as he scrunches up his face. “Dude, do you want to back the fuck up?” There’s a slight edge of hostility in his tone, much more forceful than usual and it seems to be that that has Shane’s eyebrows rising thoughtfully. “You’re acting so… so  _weird_!” He yells, as the kettle jostles and bubbles behind them, screeching to announce that the water is boiled for their coffee.

Shane shushes him far too sweetly, like he’s trying to calm an upset child and Ryan squeezes his hands where they’re still placed on the taller man’s hips. “Ryan.” He says softly, and it reminds the shorter male of all the times he’s legitimately panicking while they’re at a really spooky ghost hunting location and Shane is reassuring him. It’s the Shane he’s more familiar with, not the one that’s freaking him out in his small kitchen.

Ryan shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. He feels dizzy all of a sudden, more tired than he had been the night previous and he can feel Shane’s hands holding him tighter, supporting his weight. God he feels…

“Namtar.” Shane says out of nowhere, and Ryan’s eyes shoot open to the sound of it, but he doesn’t get the chance to reply because someone else is using his mouth.

“Yours truly.” He hears his own voice say as his lips form words he never even thought of.

And  _what the actual_   _fuck_ , Ryan thinks.

“Can you vacate my mate by any chance?” Shane sounds positively annoyed.

“But his body fits like a glove, well if only he weren’t half an inch shorter than my usual form but alas, beggars can’t be choosers.”  _Namtar_  grins and is met by Shane rolling his eyes.

“You quite literally  _have_  chosen this body.” The tall male notes.

“Yes, to… what’s the phrase the humans use these days? To  _piss you off_.” The god distorts Ryan’s face into a wide smile, all white teeth but with an absence of his friend’s usual bright, crinkled eyes to go with it.

“What do you want?” Shane asks tiredly.

“Straight to the point, you’d think we didn’t have all the time in the world to play this out.” Namtar beams and Shane is hit by the realisation that it’d look charming if it were actually Ryan pulling that expression. “Ereshkigal demands your return.”

“Well Ereshkigal can,  _as the humans say_ , shove her demands up her-“

“Now, now, Ninazu.” Namtar cuts him off.

“Don’t call me that.” Shane, well  _Ninazu_ , spits.

Namtar disregards his request, pronouncing the word (or  _name_ , Ryan realises) purposefully with utter glee. “ _Ninazu_ , you’re needed down in Kur.”

“Look, Namtar, my duties in her kingdom were taken over by Tishpak and he is far capable of the task, more so than I ever was. I’m not needed there anymore.” Shane feels as though he’s had this conversation for centuries. Well, he  _has_  but Namtar has never possessed someone he knows to do so and it’s a harrowing feeling.

“Ninazu, it is disrespectful for you to disregard your mother’s request.”

Shane slams Ryan’s possessed body back against the counter in a burst of anger and then draws back quickly, remembering it’s his friend whose flesh he’d have just left marks on.

“She’s not my mother.” Shane says through gritted teeth. He wants to apologise to Ryan, knowing Namtar would have purposely left it so he would be able to hear their conversation, tainting their friendship with the revelation of a secret Shane swore to himself Ryan would never know.

“Why do you continue to plague yourself with these talks?” Namtar smirks, unperturbed by the violence he’d endured. Water off a duck’s back, was another human phrase he’d picked up, but unsure if it worked in this context. “It’s enough to drive your supposedly ‘benevolent god’ self to violence.” Namtar adds, dusting down the front of Ryan’s blue shirt as if it were his own to care about.

“If you weren’t possessing him, Namtar, I swear to all the gods above and below I’d rip your head off.” Shane’s tone is icy with the threat and he watches Ryan’s body shudder in response, an involuntarily human reaction to a god’s warning but Namtar’s facial expression (well that of which he shaped  _Ryan’s_  into) was undisturbed.

“Oh that was so fun last time, was it not, Ninazu? It was what century again we last spoke?” Namtar sounds delighted, knowing he’s irritating the taller male. “Come back with me to Kur and I will leave this soul alone.”

“Namtar.” Shane catches the deity’s, well  _Ryan’s_ , eye and his voice sounds tight, worried.

Ryan, from within the confines of his mind (which by the way is a fucking  _trip_  to experience being unable to use your own body), is  _terrified._  They’re talking about his soul, and like what the fuck?

“This body doesn’t like that idea one bit.” Namtar says casually, pulling Ryan’s mouth into a smirk. “You know I could do it, Ninazu. I didn’t even need to have come to you, I could’ve just ripped the life out of him and dragged him below. You’d have returned then, would you have not? To our kingdom.”

Shane flinches, because the fellow god is right. Shane would have left to the underworld the second he sensed Ryan’s soul fade out. He’s become accustomed to his friend’s presence all these years, and he doesn’t think Earth would be worth it without him in it. And now he’s scared that not only Namtar knows but Ryan, too, from where he is trapped watching this all play out through eyes he can no longer control.

It doesn’t seem like a very friendly thing to admit. Because it isn’t. It surpasses that ‘mate stage’ to the ‘hey, let’s date stage!’ when in fact, Shane is probably in the ‘ha, I love you’ lane and has been swimming in it for the past three and a half years.

“What say you? You would have the best of both worlds.” Namtar quirks one of Ryan’s dark brows, knowing he is presenting a good bargain.

“But  _he_  wouldn’t.” Shane growls, and he feels his chest pang with guilt that the god before him was right once again. Shane would be able to return below, tend to whatever business Ereshkigal, his queen and  _nothing more thank you very much_ , was expecting him to do and have his friend at his side. Bound to him in death, for eternity, like he’s so selfishly wanted to do every now and then over the years. And Shane knows Ryan would hate him for it, would be horrified and frightened of him if he made that choice.

“Ninazu, you’ve gone soft in your time on Earth.” Namtar uses Ryan’s voice to sound disappointed.

Shane looks to the ceiling, silently sending a message to the world above in what would be a holy prayer and wish if he wasn’t a son of the underworld himself. He hopes someone hears his pleas anyway, he’s made quite a few acquaintances with some of the celestial bodies up there.

“Shane?” Ryan’s voice sobs his name, the one he’s chosen for himself, and he looks back to his friend who remains pressed against the counter, eyes wide and terrified.

“Ryan.” Shane breathes out, stepping forward to pull the human close but Ryan flinches back, evidently scared and whole body shaking. “Ry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I-“ The deity rushes.

He never wanted his friend to know. He just wanted a proper life. It had been 32 years since he settled into this particular body, has been with it since minutes after its birth. 32 doesn’t feel like an appropriate age to leave it. It’s the longest he has possessed a body, sure. Maybe that’s why he’s so attached. But he  _likes_  this particular life, he wanted to carry on playing it out. It had been such an easy ride, with barely any real illnesses afflicting humanity for the underworld to force him to ignore.

Because Shane’s gift is that of healing, unusually benign for the  _alleged_  son of the queen of the underworld. (Note: “alleged”)

But this had casted him practically neutral in the divide between the above and below worlds, despite his  _assumed_  family ties. So when Tishpak took over his duties of guarding his city, he skilfully passed the seven gates of Kur having tricked the chief gatekeeper Neti with promises of healing his ails.

Promises he never fulfilled, bear in mind. Meaning if he  _were_  to return below, he’d be punished by the cruel, vengeful gatekeeper. Which, no thanks to that idea. Because even if it  _is_  believed that he is the queen’s offspring, he wouldn’t put it passed Neti to give it a good try and the queen to turn a blind eye in her own spite to get back at him for leaving her.

“Ryan.” Shane whispers. “Please… tell me what you’re thinking.”

The whites of his friend’s scared eyes would be comical in another circumstance, but right now, while it’s directed towards him, it makes Shane want to crawl into himself.

“I think-“ Ryan starts, but swallows back the words before he is crying, shoulders shaking with the force of the sobs that are ripped out of him. He’s gasping for air, evidently about to have a panic attack and Shane closes the space between them, then.

The lanky male is gripping at Ryan’s biceps, telling him to breathe in and out, in and out. They’ve done this before, in this exact space. When Ryan’s ex had broken up with him and left him feeling like his world was falling apart around him because she’d said she didn’t love him anymore. And Shane, oh god  _Shane_ , his best friend had stayed with him the whole time; supporting him and holding him every time he had cried.

“I don’t understand.” He finally manages to get out.

Shane is shushing him, pulling him in so his face is squished against his torso as his long fingers run up and down his back in what is supposed to be a calming motion.

“I need you to look at me for a minute, please.” Shane says into his hair.

Ryan doesn’t want to look up, he wants to wake up from whatever  _weird_  dream he’s clearly having.

But it isn’t a dream and Shane is pulling away, gentle now when he cups Ryan’s face so they’re looking into one another’s eyes. “Don’t close them for me, just for a few seconds, yeah?” Shane whispers and he looks like he’s looking for all the answers of the world in Ryan’s gaze. Shane lets a puff of air leave his lungs, blowing out his cheeks before he says “He’s gone.”

Ryan’s brain short-circuits because  _what?_

“Namtar.” Shane answers the unasked question, seeing the bewildered look on his friend’s face. “He’s no longer… uh… present… so he can no longer possess you.”

The deity’s prayer seems to have been heard, then. And Shane makes a mental note to send his appreciation to whomever above banished the underworld’s most malicious messenger Namtar back below. He’s sure it’ll likely come with some form of consequences, but that’s for future Shane to worry about. Right now, his focus needs to be on his best friend.

“Shall we, uh- go sit down?” Shane sounds uncomfortable, awkward, long limbs tensing as he’s already guiding Ryan towards his sofa and kicking the bag abandoned there out of the way and underneath the coffee table.

A silence falls between them, all for the sounds of Ryan’s quick breaths where anxiety threatens to throw him back into another panic.

Shane clasps his large hands together, to stop himself from reaching out to his friend, when it’s all he wants to do. He wants to be the only god to have left a mark on him. But Namtar’s touch, Shane knows, will linger for the next coming days. Will leave Ryan sick as a result. You can’t be possessed by the god of death and not experience side effects in the aftermath.

_Fortunately, his now former bestie is the god of healing who can help with that_ , Shane thinks to himself with an edge of self-deprecating sarcasm. He’d ensure Ryan was of good health before he had to leave him.

“Possessed?” Ryan eventually says, he’s sat frozen to the spot like a spooked animal, and Shane nods sadly. “How did- When?”

Shane shrugs, he’s unsure. He’d sensed a change in Ryan’s presence before he’d left to film Curly’s video and his fears were confirmed when he was saying goodbye, catching the weird cloudlike trance over Ryan’s eyes before he left. He’d had to have left, acting like he hadn’t spotted anything. He needed to  _observe._  He’d waited and followed his friend home, witnessing as the animals responded to Ryan as though he were a threat.

“Uh- did you feel sick at all today?” Shane asks, watching as Ryan’s furrowed brows knit together in thought.

“No? I felt the best I’d ever felt, to be honest, actually got a lot of sleep last night.” And  _a-ha!_  There it is.

“You felt weird last night didn’t you.” Shane states, rather than questions and Ryan simply nods his head. “That fucker!” He sounds furious. He’s so mad at himself for not realising sooner, should have spotted it the moment he got into the office. But he’s clearly been lulled into a false sense of security that the underworld was leaving him to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

How long had they been watching him to know to use Ryan against him?

The thought scared even him. It meant they weren’t playing about this time, they really wanted him to return to Kur.

“The second you feel anything remotely similar to last night, you contact me, yes?” It’s more of an order than a suggestion. “Regardless of whether… of whether you no longer want me in your life… I-“ Shane pauses, swallowing against the painful lump in the back of his throat, he doesn’t want to think about the idea of Ryan asking him to stay away. “I would protect you, regardless.”

Ryan doesn’t seem to respond to the deity’s blatant anguish, suddenly asking “This isn’t a dream is it?”

Shane laughs in surprise. Ryan, the believer of all things from ghouls to demons, in disbelief when the evidence of other worlds is finally proven.

“No, Ry. It’s not.”

“You’re a- a god?”

“In the flesh, baby.” Shane exclaims in his excitable tone usually reserved for joshing around, and an evident attempt of trying to ease the tension.

“Are you going to… hurt me?” Ryan whispers the last part, pressing his body against the side of the couch as if the inch of extra space would save him if Shane were to pounce.

“Have I ever before?” Shane is slightly offended and hurt.

“No! Just I- I never knew and now I do and I don’t know if there’s some sort of rules about people knowing and oh my god!” The black haired male rambled.

“I am your god.” Shane tried for teasing again. What can he say,  _supposed_  son of the underworld queen makes you quite the trickster and humour  _is_  a dark defence mechanism. (Once again, note: “supposed”)

Ryan splutters, going pink in the cheeks.

“But no.” Shane begins, voice calm now, reassuring. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Ryan finally settles back against the cushions of his blue settee, exhaling a long shaky breath and hopefully releasing some tension where the anxiety burns in his chest.

“He said he could… rip the life out of me? Take my… soul?”

“He could.” Shane supplies and Ryan squeaks beside him in fear. “Look,” The taller male starts, turning to his friend. “Namtar, he’s- he’s basically the god of death.” He hears Ryan gasp, a sharp intake. “Well,  _is_  the god of death. There’s no basically about it, really. But… I won’t let him. Do that… to you. I- I would rather spend eternity trapped below than you be taken from this world before it’s your true time. And I will, I’ll go back… there, if it’s what stops him from… going through with his threat. If that’s what you want.”

“What’s the other option?”

“Huh?” Shane makes a noise, confused.

“The- you not going option.” Ryan whispers.

“I don’t know. He’ll come back, most likely. He probably will anyway because he’ll be pissed off that I got him thrown down below by the hands of someone from above.” Shane smiles, a small uplift of his thin lips, a little amused by the idea that he one upped the righthand man of the underworld’s queen. “I can’t think of a way around it. I’ve not been below in over three centuries. I’m not sure of what new rules they’re all following.” He adds casually.

“ _Three_ … centuries? Three?!” Ryan’s eyes are like dinner plates on his bronze face they’re that wide.

“I was hoping for at least four.” Shane jokes and then he sighs. “Yeah, surprise, little guy, I’m old as balls me.”

“Dude, what the actual fuck?” Ryan says unintelligently. “You son of a bitch!” He yells then in the confines of the small LA apartment.

Shane flinches.

“You- what? Why play the fucking sceptic when… when you  _knew_  what existed?” And Shane has to laugh because  _of course_  that’s Ryan Bergara’s priority here. Not the fact the literal Grim Reaper was possessing him not even ten minutes ago.

“It was fun to see you so riled up. Plus, demons are a load of baloney. A god’s a god whether it’s above or below.” The taller male responds.

“I can’t believe you. This is a fever dream.” Ryan shakes his head before rubbing his eyes.

“I wish.” And Shane sounds so sad when he says it.

There’s a dull throb forming at Ryan’s temples, it only lasts a few seconds before the pain sharpens, spiking across his forehead and making him wince. Shane spots the discomfort in his friend immediately, knows it’s one of the after effects of being possessed and probably combined with the stress of panicking and shock too. Ryan slumps further back into the couch, any energy he felt buzzing through him earlier feels like a distant memory and wow he’s tired. More so than he was last night, you know the supposed time in which he was  _possessed_  (which uh, hello, still a bit of a headfuck situation!)

“-yan?” He hears Shane’s voice, it sounds much more distant to his ears.

“I feel… weird.” Ryan knows his words are muffled, slurred. He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but he must have done it on instinct with the pain that currently pulsates behind them. He feels Shane’s hands wrap around his biceps, senses that his friend, the  _god_ , is stood over him now. He doesn’t know what to expect when Shane is guiding him so he’s lying down. He doesn’t realise he’s groaning until the deity is shushing him, telling him he’s going to be okay and apologising over and over again.

“I’m going to… this will help.” Shane’s voice is so soft, so calm, so soothing. Ryan thinks it sounds like what melted caramel would sound like. When Shane laughs, the tanned male realises he’s said that out loud. There’s a palm against his forehead suddenly and oh my, that’s so nice. It’s warm and it feels like all the pain in his head is rushing up towards it. In its vacated space, his mind feels clearer and he eventually blinks his eyes open.

“How did-?” Ryan breathes out the start of his question, cutting himself off as Shane’s hand presses firmer against his skin and he melts further into the cushions of the sofa, his whole body feels the most blissfully relaxed it ever has in his entire life.

“Magic fingers, baby!” Shane jokes, before shrugging his broad shoulders, sighing tiredly and answering more seriously. “Hi Ryan, I’m Ninazu, god of healing and all that jazz.” ( _More_  seriously, doesn’t mean  _entirely_  seriously when it comes to Shane Madej, people).

Blame the shock of the whole evening and the wonderful warmth Shane’s abilities have cocooned him in, because Ryan is tugging his godly friend down towards him until he’s awkwardly hovering and then all 6ft 4’ of long limbs fall down on top of him; drawing out an  _oomph_ from the pair of them. Shane’s cheek finds itself pressed against Ryan’s chest. “Please don’t stop. It feels so-“ and Ryan’s whole body shudders, clearly overwhelmed by the sensation the deity’s powers have placed over him.

Shane’s healed hundreds of thousands of people in his lifetime, but only one other person who he’s genuinely loved. A woman named Sara; he’d met her in the sixties, with her uncontrollable curls and obsession with The Beatles. He still can’t hear the song ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ without picturing her dancing foolishly around the kitchen they called their own. Is hit with memories of her floral summer dresses and paintings she proudly hung around their home when he’s surrounded by hues of bright yellow and orange sunlight. He only remembers now, in this moment when he’s lying gracelessly on top of Ryan, how she had responded to his healing touch when he’d ridded her of a common cold. How she’d pressed herself into him for the rest of the evening, her small hand in his, her soft lips periodically on his mouth. She’d said it was the best she’d ever felt in her entire life and she’d wanted to stay there with him forever.

Shane thinks that whatever his powers are doing to Ryan right now, it may be similar. Because his dark haired friend is gripping at him, at his burgundy shirt as it creases beneath long, golden fingers that hold him in place. But Shane’s legs are far too long for this sofa, feet dangling over the edge that digs painfully into his shins. He can see that Ryan is clearly appreciating the moment, but the god isn’t. He tries to move, bending his knee slightly and ends up putting unexpected pressure in a place he hadn’t intended.

Ryan lets out a moan and Shane feels like he’s just been electrocuted. He pushes himself up and tries to get off his friend quickly but Ryan is pulling him back down. “Sorry!” He knows the shorter male is embarrassed, the flush on his cheeks gives it away and yet, his iron grip on Shane’s shirt tells the tale that he isn’t mortified enough to put distance between them; clearly too hungry for and chasing the sensation Shane’s power thrills through him.

“Ry-“ Shane whispers, he’s so nervous, propping himself up on his elbows either side of his friend so he hovers above him, more eye level with him now. He’s unsure if his abilities muddled in with his feelings for the younger male and need to protect him are the reason for how this is playing out. Sara had said it was an overwhelming emotion of love, explained how she’d been enveloped in it, how she’d known from that point on just how strongly he’d felt about her.

“God, this is so weird.” Ryan huffs out, breathless.

“You’re so weird.” Shane replies, childishly, trying to ease the tension. Ryan blinks his eyes open, looking up at him, studying his face. The deity feels exposed and wants to shrink in on himself.

“You’d have returned to… your kingdom if- Namtar took my soul there?” The tanned male asks, voice quiet and unsure. Shane searches his friend’s expression, but resigns to nodding, sadly. He knows Ryan  _knows_. It’s silent for a couple of minutes, their closeness so intense that Ryan’s eyes have closed over once again, but he doesn’t dare move. He doesn’t want to escape this sensation. The  _heat_ , like he’s wrapped in the softest jacket protecting him from the coldest of winters. Heat like he’s been covered in laundry fresh from the dryer. Like he’s sunk into a steaming hot bathtub after a long day. Like a lover holding him in his sleep.

But Shane’s eyes remain open, he’s taking in every inch of his best friend’s face. How plump lips are slightly parted, as warm air moves slowly in and out. At the long, dark eyelashes that flutter slightly as Ryan attempts to keep his eyes closed. The two day old stubble that makes his friend look all the more handsome.

“You’re a god.” Ryan eventually says. “And… I mean a lot to you- well  _enough_  to you, that… the god of death would… use me… against you?”

“Yeah-“ Shane whispers, clearing his throat before adding “That’s why- I think I might have to- like-  _go._  Like down there. I- Ryan, I can’t let him-“ Shane exhales a shaky breath. “I don’t want to leave you, I don’t want to leave this world. I just, I don’t know how to protect you. Ereshkigal, uhh the queen of the underworld, likely won’t rest. She’s left me alone for quite some time and I think she really wants me to return this time, considering how she’s never used someone I know to ask me back.”

“Your mother?” Ryan asks and instantly regrets it when he watches as Shane’s face suddenly crumbles.

“No, she’s not- she- Ryan, she-“ The god is struggling with his words. He’s never had to explain this. Had always been scared to. It’s different for those who already  _knew_. Like Namtar who was there from the start. “She  _stole_  me, Ryan. My true mother, she- she wasn’t meant to be in the underworld. But she followed the man she loved down there and Ereshkigal didn’t take lightly to that. She-“ Shane moves about so he’s sitting up now, shuffling for a few seconds and nearly knees Ryan in the stomach. Without thought, Shane plants himself so he’s sat on Ryan’s thighs where he remains stretched out on the sofa. Ryan props himself up on his elbows, following so he can remain close to his friend. “She took me. I’m of above and below in nature. My father was a wicked man, you’d probably refer to his type of deity as a demon in this world. But my true mother, she- she was from above and she followed love, and that’s what led to her demise.”

“And you’re not going to follow in her footsteps?” Ryan inquires.

Shane is puzzled by the question.

“Follow love? Like your mother did?” Ryan fidgets, moves his legs slightly from under Shane’s weight. “If you- if you followed love, you wouldn’t go. Down there. You’d stay here. Right?”

The air feels heavy, and more so as the weight of the words add pressure.

“You know I love you?” Shane asks.

“Well Namtar sort of… implied with what he was saying and… I can- the feeling, when- the healing thing- I just- sort of was hit by it.” He’s blushing from underneath the deity, knows there’s a flush of pink spreading down his neck. “It’s okay.” Ryan adds, voice barely a whisper. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m massively confused right now. My whole world has been thrown upside down not only by the fact that some sort of supernatural related things exist and that the person I’m closest to in my entire life is from said supernatural otherworld. And you know the whole possession thing really was a mindfuck, as is this sensation you’re- god Shane.” He groans and Shane twitches above him. “I feel like my head is going to explode. It’s like sensory overload.”

“I can stop?” Shane offers.

“Is it weird that I don’t want you to?”

The deity just laughs a little hysterically because honestly, this whole night has been so fucking weird. “What should I do?”

“Lie back down, please.” Ryan’s cheeks are the brightest shade of crimson Shane’s ever seen them and he’s fidgeting under him, clearly nervous. The god of healing follows the request, shifting and moving about until he can position his long legs less awkwardly. He settles with his face on Ryan’s shoulder, pressing torso to torso with his friend, can feel the younger human’s heartbeat racing. It’s the closest they’ve ever been and if anyone walked in on them now, they’d think something of it. Shane’s own cheeks turn red at the thought. “If you’re not comfortable, you don’t have to do this.” Ryan says, sounding much too anxious.

Shane debates whether or not to take his friend’s hand in his own. He thinks it’s far too intimate. Yes, the deity loves Ryan. And Ryan knows the deity loves him. But Ryan is chasing the sensation the power brings him, the feeling of complete and utter bliss. He’s only human. Sara had been hooked on it too. She’d loved connecting their hands together whenever he was healing her, she had said it felt like their souls combined to become one.

She’s 74 now, in a nursing home in California, that she fills with the sounds of Paul McCartney’s voice every so often to piss off the other residents who are  _so over_ The Beatles phase. Shane always loved Sara’s longstanding dedication to the things she adored. He believes her these days, about the idea of their souls combining, because of all the souls he can sense the presence of in this world, hers is the strongest. He’s scared to know what it may feel like the day she finally passes over, being the only woman he’s adored and how likely that her soul is truly tied to his.

He thinks if he links his hand with Ryan’s in this moment, as his powers flow through him, it’ll be the same. It’ll connect them in ways he doesn’t properly understand. And he’s reminded of all the times he’s so selfishly wanted to just drag Ryan below so their souls are eternally joined. But it’s Ryan who reaches for his hand, locking their slender fingers together.

“What- what are you doing?” Shane whispers.

“I know I’m confused, and like, my brain is all mushy with the healing thing. But, it feels right.” Ryan says quietly, nervous. “I- I have liked you, before this. Just so we’re clear.”

“But not anymore?” Shane says sadly.

“No!” Ryan yells and they both flinch at his loudness. “I, uh, I meant, just in case you think it’s because you’re a god with… magic hands, that I suddenly like you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…  _oh._ ” Ryan worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I sort of compartmentalised that in my thoughts as a ‘no go area’ two years ago.”

Shane snorts. “You and me both, buddy. Well, if you’d said three and a half years ago.”

“ _Three and a half years ago_?!” Ryan shrieks. Jesus, he can be loud and voice far too shrill when he’s in shock.

“Sorry, it wasn’t love at first sight.” Shane says, body shaking above Ryan as he chuckles at his own joke.

“Shut up, Shane.” The black haired male replies fondly.

“I hear that… this whole sensation is made better by kissing.” Shane tries for nonchalant, but remember Ryan has studied hours’ worth of footage and audio clips of the deity and he can hear the touch of fear in Shane’s tone.

Still, Ryan is breathless by the suggestion.

“I’m… willing to test this theory.” Ryan’s heart feels ready to escape his ribcage at any minute. He knows Shane will be able to feel it, where their chests are squished together. He’s been terrified of many things in his lifetime, most of which while on set filming an episode of Unsolved. But this feels like the most horrifying moment of his life. It tops casual possession by the god of death apparently too.

Shane turns his face into Ryan’s neck, placing the lightest of kisses there before he’s moving, propping himself up so he’s aligned with Ryan’s face; peering down at him and scanning his features for any sign that his human friend will tell him to stop.

For the briefest of seconds, the deity pictures Sara lying beside him in their bed as he healed her, the gasp that had escaped her that he’d swallowed as they’d kissed for the first time as his powers thrummed through her small frame. He misses her. He wants to go visit her. Bring Ryan with him. She’d adore that. Would find the dark haired male utterly charming. He last saw her a couple of weeks after New Year. Shane accidentally mentions his best friend, colleague and ghoul friend in passing a lot. So naturally, the sweet old Sara has always wanted to know more. Has that elderly woman all-knowing senses about her that she clocked onto the fact Shane loves Ryan years ago. Probably before the god himself realised.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Ryan’s question is so quiet, even as close as they are Shane nearly doesn’t hear it. The deity closes the space between them then, lips tentatively finding his friend’s. And Ryan’s lips part with a gasp, just as Sara’s had. “ _Shane_ …” And okay woah yeah, Shane has never heard the name he has made his own said like  _that_. Ryan sounds awestruck, long eyelashes leaving dancing shadows as his eyes flutter open and shut, again and again, as he battles to keep looking at the god above him. But he’s fighting a war he’s never going to win, eyes closing over as Shane presses his mouth firmer against his.

Ryan knows he’s shaking beneath his tall friend, practically vibrating with the all-consuming feelings that race through him, at the colours that burst behind his eyelids. He feels like crying. Which, that would be ridiculous and highly embarrassing. But it’s  _so_   _much_. He feels so good. The healthiest, happiest, warmest, safest, most loved he ever has in his whole life. He wants to stay here forever, under Shane as he deepens their kiss and squeezes their hands tighter.

Ryan doesn’t know how much time has passed when Shane starts to put space between them; disconnecting limbs that feel have somehow tied together and made them one. His skin is tingling all over and he’s not sure if it’s from Shane’s abilities or the excitement and shock that comes from unexpectedly kissing your best friend. Both, probably.

The god clears his throat and Ryan notes that there’s a soft rosy tint to Shane’s cheeks. Ryan thinks he looks beautiful with it, practically celestial – which, is practically hilarious since his friend quite literally  _is_  some form of celestial with being a god of both… well what Shane had referred to as the ‘above’ and ‘below’.

“I can’t believe it took til the god of death possessed me for you to finally do that.” Ryan’s tone is teasing.

“I guess this will be the first time I’ll have something to thank Namtar for!” Shane tries for a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s reminded of the fact that Namtar will eventually return, to drag his ass to hell whether he likes it or not and might even punish Ryan for the good of it.

“Hey.” Ryan says softly, can tell where Shane’s thoughts would have gone to. “We’ll… deal with it, if he returns.”

“ _When_  he returns.” Shane corrects, pensive in his expression.

“Yeah, well, now I know what to look out for since I finally know… about you.” Ryan shrugs his shoulders, and Shane starts to look sheepish. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We do.”

And if they skip that conversation for a few hours as they re-connect hands and mouths once again, then that’s between the human chasing the heavenly feeling his best friend surrounds him with and a god becoming one with the man he’s been chasing for nearly four years.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll admit, this got away from me very quickly it was only meant to be a 1000 worder yikes and i feel like there's more left unsaid (i.e. namtar's return/visiting sara) but i hope you enjoyed it anyway (:


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